“Isabella, am I disturbing you?” Julian’s gaze was lowered, the reflection of his gold-rimmed glasses masking his expression. “It’s just… this is my first time at an event like this. I’d feel more comfortable staying close to you.”
His voice carried a faint tremor of unease.
Nathaniel saw right through the act and arched a brow. “Dr. Whitmore, you’re a world-renowned physician. If you claim you’ve never attended a gala before, no one’s going to believe you.” His smirk was sharp, tone dripping with skepticism.
No one played their cards closer to their chest than Julian.
Alexander, ever composed, added smoothly, “Indeed. Dr. Whitmore only skips events he deems beneath him. It’s not as if he lacks invitations.”
Julian pressed his lips together, momentarily at a loss for words.
Isabella, however, stepped in. “He’s dedicated to his research. Socializing isn’t his priority. It’s not surprising he hasn’t attended many formal dinners.”
That much was true. Back when they shared an apartment in Leswington, Julian had always been solitary—polite yet distant. Even with his gentle smile, he kept everyone at arm’s length.
“But this is a charity event,” she continued smoothly. “No need to feel out of place. Mr. Kingsley and I are merely guests ourselves.”
Julian hesitated but finally nodded. “I see.”
In truth, when Dominic had sent the invitation days ago, Julian hadn’t even considered attending. It was only when he learned Isabella would be accompanying Alexander that he changed his mind.
He simply wasn’t ready to let go.
Alexander’s voice cut through his thoughts, cool yet weighted. “No one knows this venue better than I do. So, Dr. Whitmore, if you’d like a tour, I’d be happy to show you around.”
The smile on Alexander’s lips was polite, but the unspoken challenge in his tone was unmistakable.
Julian stiffened, sensing that this “tour” might involve something far from pleasant.
Nathaniel broke into laughter, diffusing the tension. “Isabella, since Mr. Kingsley is being so generous, why don’t we all take a look around later?” He gave her an exaggerated, pitiful look. “I’ve been utterly devastated by someone who keeps standing me up. Why don’t you have a drink with me and cheer me up?”
With his youthful charm and mock-hurt expression, he looked almost too pitiful to refuse.
Almost.
He had always known Isabella would attract admirers, but he hadn’t expected two to show up tonight. Naturally, he had to seize the opportunity.
Isabella arched a brow, unimpressed. “If you were truly heartbroken, you wouldn’t be here. Why don’t the three of you get better acquainted?”
She took a step back, her gaze cool and unreadable.
But then, unexpectedly, Alexander cleared his throat, his hand moving to his shoulder.
Her expression shifted, concern flickering in her eyes. “Mr. Kingsley, is your gunshot wound still bothering you? Did you reopen it?”
The memory of the kidnapping incident resurfaced, sending a shiver down her spine.
Alexander, however, remained composed. “It’s nothing serious. You’ve been working hard lately—you should rest. I’ll go find Dominic. Your friend might be there, and I have a few questions for her.”
Isabella blinked, suddenly recalling one of her reasons for attending tonight—gathering information on Olivia and Dominic.
“Then let’s go together.” She waved a casual hand at the two men behind her. “You two carry on. Mr. Kingsley and I will be back shortly.”
Julian and Nathaniel exchanged a glance. Despite being strangers, their eyes mirrored the same realization.
So, playing the wounded card actually worked?
Alexander had just turned the tables and swept her away with that move.
He was far more cunning than either of them had given him credit for.
